


Beginning

by ch3miistry



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Gen, Old World Blues DLC, forgive me for this self indulgent story but i would die for these two, i finally got an ao3 so I can post this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 12:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15582126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ch3miistry/pseuds/ch3miistry
Summary: It started when the courier watched the midnight showing at the Mojave Drive-In.Or maybe, it started when it became a friend.





	Beginning

It started with a lobotomite agreeing to help them.  It wasn’t its choice, being forced into a situation to get its own brain back, but it started off when it helped them.  When it finally agreed to everyone’s demands, saying ‘I don’t have a choice, so, fine’ and storming out with a handful of caps and hardly any clothes on its back.

Or maybe, it started when it spoke to him directly. When it was no longer subjected to Doctor Klein’s yelling and everyone else’s bickering.  When it chose to speak to him on its own terms.

“You’re Doctor O, correct?” it said.  Of course it gets his name wrong.

“*O? O yes, I'm not going to bother correcting you. At least you got the ‘Doctor’ part correct. I can be grateful for that, at l...*” He paused, glancing down at the dirtied mass of metal sitting on its arm.  He knew exactly what it was, and he could only feel rage filling his nonexistent chest when he stared at it longer. “*Stop the presses. Just in from my eye monitors... is that RobCo tech on your arm? It is! What's your agenda, bringing _that_ in here?*”

This lobotomite was off to a terrible start.  He didn’t like it at all.

\---

“Hey, Doctor O. I wanted to talk to you.”

Delightful.  It was back, once again breathing bacteria-filled air all over his things for the second time of the day.  He didn’t bother addressing it back, waiting for it to continue as it glanced between his screens. It’s like the lobotomite didn’t know where to look.  Not that it mattered, though; he just wanted it to go away.

Clearing its throat, it shifted on its feet before speaking again. 

“I was thinking about what you said earlier.  About your name. I wanted to talk you about it.”

“*What about it?  I don’t feel like arguing it with you, too.*”  His voice dripped with caution. It was his least favorite topic of discussion with the other executives, so discussing it with the mass of flesh and bones in front of him was far from enjoyable.  If anything, discussing it with the lobotomite made things worse.

“Do you have another name?”

“*Yeah, I do. It wasn't always ‘O.’ I had took that one by default because sometimes it's easier to accept the mistake as long as the purpose works.*”  He didn’t want to go into this. He hated arguing it with others, and the last thing he needed was a braindead lobotomite telling him off about it too. “*I don't want to get into it. It's a sore topic with me. Makes my gel ripple.*”

“Are you sure? I'm a good listener. Got the ears for it,” it replied, holding a faint questioning look on its face.  It didn’t feel quite genuine, with the corners of its mouth wrinkling in an unnatural fashion, but it was oddly convincing.  For some reason, he felt willing to deal with it. Damn psychology. 

“*O-kay, so my name isn't ‘O.’ Never was. It was circular, a single character, digit, but not ‘O.’ But even with enhanced sensors, no one here could get it right! Always kept seeing the letter, not the number.*”  Just talking about it again made his blood boil. No one ever understood him, so certainly a lobotomite couldn’t. It probably didn’t even know what a number was, no less a letter. 

“If they kept confusing the letter with a number, your name is Dr. 0... Dr. Zero?”

“*Yes! Thank you. _Zero_. I am Zero. How hard is that? A narrow, thin Zero.*” It actually got the name right. Unbelievable; it’s smarter than he thought, so much that he couldn’t even control his outburst.

The lobotomite flashed a gentle, crooked smile, already seemingly conjuring up a plan to help with his name.  For something that was technically a prisoner and forced experiment, it sure was kind. It was in no way an intelligent or top level being, but it was at least better than the animalistic humans outside.

Maybe it started when the lobotomite chose to help him.  As in, not forced. As in, doing a favor. 

\---

A distant clatter of gears turning and a door opening brought Doctor Zero’s attention to the entrance of the dome, peeling his monitors away from his work station.  By now, he had grown used to that sound symbolizing the lobotomite’s arrival and departure from the area, and while some of the others had grown to resent the former event, it was difficult for him to say the same.  He certainly didn’t like it, but there was no immediate need to prepare himself for a conversation.

He watched the lobotomite cross the dome’s floor, starting by speaking with Doctor Klein, then moving their way from right to left for conversations with the others.  It saved Zero for last… just like every other day. From almost the beginning to today, after defeating Mobius, they adopted this pattern, starting their morning with the same routine.  Klein, Borous, 8, Dala, Zero, repeat.

It was peculiar to him, feeling a strange sort of bitterness at the fact.  Why did it always save him for last? Perhaps it was a subtle way of saying it didn’t want to be around him.  Clearly this thing had feelings. It lived, it breathed, it spoke its mind. On some days, when it returned from the crater, it even screamed, had clear liquid come from its eyes, and left drops of red liquid on the floor.  It was disgusting, but it left an indescribable, dull pain in his brain. It was like he was supposed to do something, but couldn’t.

He wasn’t quite sure how long he spent viewing the results on his screen, but it must have been longer than he thought.  He was startled back to reality when a familiar face leaned into his vision.

“Guess who’s back to bother you, Zero.”  He always liked how it said his name. It’s like it knew he loved to hear it. It didn’t matter, though. It was probably a joke to it.

“*Let me guess; there’s something you want from me.  What is it, lobotomite?*” His eye monitors shifted to look at it face on.

“I… just wanted to talk to you.  I can come back later if you’re busy,” it muttered.  A hand reached up and scratched its head, a little taken aback.  Yet, instead of waiting calmly for a reply, its brow furrowed unexpectedly, a sudden change from their previous, blank expression.  “And I have a name, you know.”

“*O- you have a name.  Yeah, of course. I knew that.  Everyone has a name. Even lobotomites, clearly.  In fact, I was just about to ask you about… names of… things…*”  The two of them have been through this exact situation before, and they both knew it was a fruitless attempt to sound like he knew what he was talking about.  He was obviously caught up in his lie, admitting his defeat with a loud sigh. “*Forget it... Let’s try this again. What is _your_ name?*”

“… Key. It’s Key.”  It seemed almost startled by his question, as if it wasn’t expecting him to play along.  Their face had a tinge of happiness to it though, so he must have done something right.

“*Huh. O-kay.  Well then, Key, now we can call each other by our names.*”  
  
“No more of calling me ‘lobotomite?’”

“*Yeah.  You’re the only one here who calls me Zero.  It’s fair, right? A deal between… er…*”

“A deal between friends.”

Friends.  Maybe it started when Key called him a friend.

\---

It had been roughly two weeks since he learned Key’s name.  Yet, for some reason, he couldn’t get his mind off of the conversation.  It wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary, in terms of interactions with other living beings… but something stuck with him.  Being called a friend stuck with him. It was almost a feeling of warmth, like hovering in the sun on a hot day and letting the heat seep into his tank.  He couldn’t explain why, but it was comforting. He enjoyed being called a friend.

When Key showed up again, entering with a familiar clammer of metal and their usual pattern of talking to the executives, he made sure to face it before it- no… face them before they arrived.  Within a few minutes, their routine was coming to an end, strolling over to the leftmost side of the dome and leaning on his workstation.

“*Back to hovering around my workspace, I see.  Any new research?*”

“It’s what I do best.  But… actually, I do have something.  More like a request.”

“*A request.  Is it going to be another one of your debugging obsessions?*”

Instead of a reply, Key walked to the other side of the workstation, coming up to him and pointing at their right arm.  It dangled at their side, lifelessly, as if power to it had been cut. Literally. It was a robotic arm, dented and smudged with dirt across the outside of it.  Several pieces had fallen off, too, exposing the wiring underneath. In all honesty, Zero could see that the creator did a nice job with it, but weathering had done a number on it.  What was once a nice piece of machinery became a broken hunk of metal hanging off of their body.

“I wish, but actually, I need my arm fixed.  Badly. I figured you’d be the best one to talk to about supplies, so I came to you.”

They could barely finish their sentence before Zero moved an eye monitor closer to their arm, brain tank shining like a lightbulb.  He was thankful at least someone around here gave him the respect he deserved. He is the roboticist, after all.

“*Sure… I’m guessing you’ll need some help piecing it back together, too.  I don’t know who built this, but it’s a nice piece of work if you ask me,” he hummed, investigating the damage as well as the structure of it.  It was complex, and other than the damage, it looked well built, and certainly nothing like RobCo tech. Whoever built this knew what they were doing without being another pawn.  “*It probably has all sorts of complicated parts to make it function so similarly to a… biologic arm.*”

“O, thanks.  I can manage it if I get the supplies, though; I built it myself.”  They flashed another one of their crooked smiles, but he could hardly comprehend it.

“*You... built this?*”

“Uh-huh.  When I- well, when I lost my original arm, I built this one.  I’m flattered you think it’s well built though, considering it’s mostly scrap.”

“*Yeah, yeah.*”  He was too preoccupied trying to realize that Key, a _lobotomite_ , was a decent, if not good mechanical engineer.  It froze him to his core, especially when they likely didn’t have much schooling in their life.  “*I’d love to see blueprints. For study. Curiosity, you know. No copy-cat cheater’s work or anything of that caliber.  I’m not-*”

“It’s fine, Zero.  I can just work on it over here.  So you can help out when you want to.”

Maybe it really started when they worked together on a project for the first time.

\---

It had been over three months since Key’s first visit, according to them.  Despite everyone’s original disinterest in them, they all seemed to lessen their disgust, eventually even growing to appreciate their presence beyond delivering materials.  Zero had to admit that, as irritated as he was with them at the start, talking to them almost daily for so long has helped. He hated to admit it, but he genuinely liked having them around, talking to them, and even watching them go about their daily routine in the dome.  It was sweet to him, almost.

He felt something beyond the joy of someone actually respecting him.  A sort of deep sense of comfort when they talked, like he had someone who was there for him.  They always listened to his problems, always calming him down and being the rational voice for his erratic thoughts.  Key really was a friend to him.

When they finished up their routine by walking over to Zero’s side of the room, he turned to face them again, greeting them with the best alternative to a smile he could make with his monitors.  It was harder than it looked, but they seemed to get it, indicated by the equally crooked smile that stretched across their face.

The two stood, watching each other in silence for a moment before Key glanced to the exit.  They looked almost pensive, with their thick eyebrows furrowed and their nose just barely wrinkled.

“*Got a new idea on your mind?*” he asked, raising an eye monitor to indicate curiosity.

“Mm, no.”

“*You sure? I’m a good listener too, you know.*”  He moved a monitor forward, as if he was peering at them with one eye for extra drama.  He was only inches away from their face, causing them to reel back out of reflex before grinning and returning with a challenging wink.

“Nice try, but I’m serious! I’m not thinking about anything.  Now get your dusty screen out of my face before you get my hair all frizzy.”

“*Because it’s enough of a mess already.  Got it.*”

“Uncalled for!”

He watched as Key reached out to physically shove his screen back, pressing a hand on the edge of each side of the monitor until it was far enough away from them.  Except, he didn’t fight back. Not even in the slightest. He was too focused on the fact that they actually touched him and there was no desire to even recoil. He couldn’t feel anything, but it was the meaning of it.  In a way, he wished he _could_ feel again, though.  That was something he missed entirely.  There must be a way.

“*... We should really fix the virtual reality room.*”

“Huh? O, yeah.  It’s pretty busted up.”

“*I’ve got the codes lying around somewhere… just need the right hardware repairs and we’d be good to go.  This week?*”

“Sounds good, Zero.”

Maybe it started when they made plans together, like real friends.

\---

“I think we’ve got a connection.”  Key’s voice was sharper and static-filled over the intercom, but still recognizable.  They currently stood within the virtual reality room, their body shrouded in a dull, blue light as they looked up at one of the security cameras inside.  It’s how he could see them, watching from a small screen by his workspace. They couldn’t see each other, but if all proved successful, they would in just a few minutes.  

“*Go ahead in.  I’ll join.*”

“Roger.”

There was a period of blackness, an absence of every sense beyond his own consciousness before he awoke inside of a room that mimicked a standard living room.  It was far from perfect, each object glistening and flickering to remind him it was completely artificial, but it was something. He even had a generated body for himself, complete with hands, brown, combed hair, and a face that matched the one in his old pictures.  So far from perfect, but passable, and far better than the chassis he lives in.

Across the room, Key appeared in the form that they usually do.  Dark and messy curls, tan skin, subtle scars, and the robotic arm that made it so easy to identify them.  He never really focused on it until now, but being able to view colors through virtual reality made them so much more vivid than his normal form showed.  They practically glowed. Though, that was likely due to the fact that they were made of light like everything else he could see.

“I wasn’t expecting a human.  You look… a lot younger than I expected.”

“*I’ve always been told I have a young face.*”  A blush quickly spread across his cheeks, but disappeared almost as rapidly.

“It’s nice to see you.  In this form, I mean. Look, I can actually touch you and you can feel it.”

As Key spoke, they stepped towards him and reached for his hand, holding it firmly.  They were right. He could feel it. It was only simulated, but it was better than nothing.  Better than anything he’s felt in a long time, actually.

But instead of happiness, he could swear his eyes started to burn.  It was impossible to describe the pain he felt, being an odd combination between misery and pure joy that he was able to experience this again.  It hurt to think about, to the point his vision started going blurry. Water was building up in his eyes, just like what used to happen to Key.

“... Are you… crying?”

Crying. That’s what it was called.  It was embarrassing.

“*No-*”

“Zero, you’re definitely crying.  What’s wro-”

Key couldn’t finish their sentence, being cut off by Zero wrapping his arms around them and pulling them close.  For a moment, they stood frozen, almost long enough that he was going to let go, but their arms eventually snaked around him, returning whatever embrace they were in.  It was so warm and comforting.

The two stood, holding each other in silence for what seemed like hours, despite it feeling too short when they finally pulled apart.  It was impossible for him to describe, but he loved every moment of it.

“*Thanks. I mean, for everything.*”

“Anything for a friend.”

It started when he could feel human again.


End file.
